


INKED

by AlexandraO



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU nobody asked for, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, sexgod!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandraO/pseuds/AlexandraO
Summary: When Hermione Granger walks into Diagon Ink, Harry Potter gets much more than he bargained for. A tattoo on the heart is just as permanent as one placed on the skin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my dear friend, MrsRen! I hope you find some time for your favorite things today, cheers to another year!

Harry roared down the street on his bike and pulled up outside of his shop,  _ Diagon Ink.  _ He cut the engine and swung his leg over the side, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his front jeans pocket. As he took a long drag from the cigarette, he took his time admiring the bike. 

It was old school, once belonging to his godfather, Sirius Black. When Sirius died, it was willed down to him, and in mourning, he threw himself into fixing it up as best he could. Eventually, he took it to a family friend and a mechanic, Arthur Weasley, at  _ The Burrow _ where he fixed it up. It’s run like a dream ever since. 

Some told him he should sell it and get himself a Harley, or maybe a reliable car. But he just couldn’t bear to part with the beautiful Bonnie, a nickname he gave the Triumph Bonneville T120. 

With one last pat to the bike’s seat, Harry turned toward his shop and tossed his cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it into the sidewalk with his black leather boots. Fishing his key out of his pocket, he pushed it into the lock and opened up the shop, flicking the sign around to ‘open’. He turned on the lights before making his way to his station in the back of the shop.

Shrugging out of his leather jacket and throwing it over a hook, he washed his hands and began to prepare his station for his first appointment. He cleaned and sanitized everything, covering the area in plastic. Some shops got a bad rep for how dirty they were — not  _ Diagon Ink _ . He and his business partner wouldn’t allow for anything less than perfection. It was how they got voted one of the top shops in the area. 

The door chimed and Harry glanced up to see his partner, Malfoy, walk in. “Alright, Potter?” 

“Just doing what I love,” Harry replied with a shit eating grin, as he always did, mostly to irritate Malfoy. 

Malfoy snorted. “Still work.” He threw himself into a nearby chair and pulled out a chocolate chip muffin from a brown paper bag he was holding. Even for breakfast, Malfoy couldn’t curb his sweet tooth. 

“We work for ourselves, and we make bank. I really can’t complain.” 

“You know we don’t need to work at all.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You make that argument at least once a week, but you can’t trick me. I know you love it here. Much better than working in that stuffy place with your father.” 

“Too true.” 

The door chimed again signalling the arrival of Harry’s first appointment. Harry made a shooing gesture to Malfoy and got up to greet the man. At their consultation the previous week, Dean Thomas, an acquaintance from secondary school, decided on an arm tattoo. 

“Thomas,” Harry said in greeting, grasping the man’s hand. “Ready for the lion?” 

The man grinned back. “Am I ever.” 

Hours and one lion tattoo later, Harry took a deep breath and stretched his arms. They had taken several breaks, but extended periods behind the needle still took a toll on his back and his fingers. After sending his client on his way, Harry cleaned everything up and tossed a towel on the counter. 

“Done for the day?” Malfoy asked as he tattooed a middle-aged man. 

Harry shook his head. “I have a consultation in about half an hour. And then another scheduled appointment after that.” 

Malfoy shook his head. “You work too much.” 

Harry shrugged. “I like what I do.” 

“You need to get laid,” Draco’s client muffled voice said, as he was face down in the chair. 

Draco pulled his needle back to laugh. “Mario, my man, you hit the nail on the head. Potter needs a woman. One that will keep him out of work so much and shag him silly.” He paused and pressed the needle once more to the man’s back. “But I swear if you don’t quit making me laugh, I’m going to misspell your wife’s name.” 

Harry just shook his head at the two and looked toward the door when it chimed again. His breath got caught in his throat as she walked in, looking so out of place. 

“Can I help you?” Harry asked, moving toward her. 

She smiled at him, showing a set of perfect teeth. “Oh, yes, uhm—” She paused, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. “I am here for a consultation with Harry Potter.” 

Harry held out his hand. “Well lucky for you then that I happen to be exactly him.” She shook his hand and giggled. “And you must be Hermione Granger.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” she said, tucking one of her wild curls behind her ear. Harry was tempted to reach out and pull on a curl, just to watch it bounce back and join the others. Her honey brown eyes looked at him curiously, and a flush crept up from his neck after realizing he had been staring. 

“Since you’re here for a consultation, we’ll head back to my station to chat.” He led the way back and gestured for her to sit on the inkbed. He pulled out a tablet of sketch paper and looked back up at her. “So what are you thinking about getting?” 

Hermione bit her lip once more, and Harry was tempted to reach out and stop her. But only because he wanted a taste. He shook his head, pushing the inappropriate thoughts from his mind.

“I am not sure what I want exactly, I thought you might have some ideas.” 

Harry frowned. Usually, clients at least knew a bit of what they wanted before coming in. It was a red flag when they didn’t. Indecisive clients were more likely to back out and not schedule an appointment. 

“This is my first tattoo,” she blurted after several moments of silence. “I know I want one, but I am indecisive at times, especially with something so permanent. Any suggestions really would be helpful.” 

He threw the notepad down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his right leg over his left. 

“Let’s just talk so I can get to know you and get a feel of what you might like.” 

“Can I ask about your tattoos?” She asked, pointing to his arms. 

Harry laughed. “Sure.” 

First, he showed his forearm, where a symbol of the Deathly Hallows had been tattooed on his arm. 

“A favourite fairytale of yours?” 

Harry nodded but didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to know that it was a reminder of his mother reading to him as a child — one of the only memories he had of her.

Pushing up his sleeve on the other arm, he explained each tattoo without going into too much personal detail, but still giving enough information to sate her curiosity. At the top of his arm lay a beautiful, snowy white owl, then a snake, a lily, a stag, tiny footprints. In the empty space, vines weaved themselves, bringing the separate pieces of art together into a masterpiece. 

“Any more?” 

He pulled back the collar of his shirt, showing a golden snitch. 

“What is that?” she asked curiously, a slight frown gracing her plump lips.

Harry shrugged. “I saw it in a dream, and they called it the golden snitch. Entirely fictional, but I drew it from memory.” 

“You have quite a lot of tattoos.” 

Harry grinned. “Never trust a tattoo artist that isn’t covered in them. I drew all of these myself - it’s a great portfolio. And these aren’t even all of them.” 

Her mouth dropped open. “You have more?” 

“Yeah,” Harry laughed. “A dragon on my back and some runes on my hip. I have more planned, but haven’t gotten there quite yet.” 

“I have heard they are addicting.” 

“Very true statement too.” He paused. “Well, enough about me, tell me a little bit about you.” 

Harry smiled, listening to her melodic voice. He wasn’t much of a reader, but he would buy some audio books if her voice were for sale. She talked about always being tied down to academics, and what her parents wanted, how she got her masters, and being bogged down by the expectations of others. 

To him, it seemed like everything she did was based on pleasing others and not herself. Well, except for this tattoo — it was the first thing it seemed she was doing for herself. 

As she continued to talk, Harry grabbed his notepad once more and began to sketch. He didn’t even notice when she stopped talking, looking at him curiously. When he finished, he passed the notepad to her. 

Her jaw dropped, and she ran her fingers over the drawing. “This is absolutely gorgeous.” She looked up at him. “What about me inspired this?” 

“You talked a lot about others expectations of you, and I got the vibe that you want to break free and be free. I thought this dandelion losing its seeds and floating away in the wind and turning into birds was the perfect representation of that.” 

“I love it,” she said again. 

“So now the question is, do you want to go with this design and this size? It will depend on where you put the tattoo as well.

“I haven’t quite decided where I want it to go. I might need a few days.” 

Harry pulled his scheduling book over and took a look at what he had open. “I am completely booked for the next few days, but I am free almost all of Friday starting midmorning. How does that sound?” 

“It sounds perfect!” The door chimed again, signalling his time was over with Hermione, his next client arriving. 

She stood up and held out her hand. “Thank you, Harry.” He shivered a little hearing his name on her lips. So much so, he returned the favour.

“My pleasure, Hermione. See you on Friday.” She turned and walked toward the door, a little skip in her step, her curls bouncing. As she walked out, she turned back and sent him a wave. He grinned and waved back. 

“Oh, you got it bad, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, from the other side of the room. “That pretty thing made you complete mush. Did you just wave at her?” 

Harry sputtered and shook his head. “She waved. I wasn’t not going to wave back. It’s rude.” 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Draco’s client chimed in again. 

“They’re right, you know,” Harry’s client, George said. “You got it bad. I could tell, and I just walked in.” 

“I only just met her,” Harry argued, setting up his station as George stood looking on. 

The man shrugged. “You got a little crush...who knows. Just think, you get to see her again, right?” 

Harry nodded. “Right.” And he wasn’t going to say the words out loud, but he couldn’t wait. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione groaned as she walked into her flat and collapsed on the sofa, not bothering to take off her satchel from around her neck. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Pansy asked, walking out of the kitchen, handing her a glass of wine. 

“Pansy, it’s the middle of the day. Why are you drinking?” 

Pansy looked toward the analogue clock on the wall. “It’s three o’clock. It’s far too late in the afternoon to just now start drinking. Besides, you have dirt to spill, and you have a hard time spilling it when you’re totally sober. Tight-lipped you are.” 

Hermione stuck her tongue out at her friend, but sat up and accepted the wine glass. She took a sip. “Mmmh, Prosecco, my favourite.” 

“See, I’m the best friend there is.” 

“You’re just bribing me for information because you’re nosy.” 

Pansy shrugged. “I won’t deny it. But I know something happened, so spill the tea.” 

Hermione sighed and took another sip before she began to speak. “I went in for my tattoo consultation today.” 

“And?” 

“And my tattoo artist is the most dreamy, sexy, funny man I have ever met in my life.” 

“Oh hells yes,” Pansy said. “It’s been ages since you got laid.”

Hermione frowned. “Pansy, I’m his client. I am not sure if that’s allowed.” 

“Sure, it is! It’s not like he’s a doctor and you’re his nurse with some sketchy shit going on behind his wife’s back. You’re both adults, and you’re just his client until your tattoo is finished — you can totally shag him.” 

Hermione groaned. “I don’t want to just shag him though...or anyone for that matter. I want to find someone, you know, to do life with.” 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t shag him.” 

Hermione gulped back some wine instead of taking a sip. “Pans, you know how that usually works out...not well. I really liked Cormac, and I shagged him a few dates in and after that, he didn’t ever call again. I don’t have the best luck.” 

“Girl, you  _ need _ to get laid. At least see if he wants to go on a date. It can’t hurt. And if you like him, and he’s giving some good vibes, then you can shag him.” 

“Says the girl with a boyfriend.” 

Pansy drained her wine glass. “How do you think I got my boyfriend? I give amazing head.” She winked at Hermione before trotting off to the kitchen. 

Hermione drained her wine glass and followed her friend. She had three days to think about Harry Potter and come up with a plan for asking him out...or getting him to ask her out. 

But before she could even think of that, she needed to decide where she wanted her tattoo. Because she knew if she couldn’t decide by then, well, she would do what she usually did, and back out, cancelling the appointment altogether. She wasn’t about to back out and miss out on some quality time with the dreamboat, wannabe bad boy, tattoo extraordinaire, Harry Potter. The man was sex. 

  
  


Harry walked into the shop on Thursday, Malfoy already there. 

“Draco.” He threw himself down in a chair in the waiting area, covering his head with his arm. 

“Uh, oh. You don’t use my first name unless you want to chat about something serious. I’m not sure I can do this unless we are several shots deep.” 

“Too bad,” Harry mumbled. “I didn’t sleep for shit last night.” 

Malfoy didn’t say anything. Harry moved his arm away from his eyes, and his friend was ignoring him as he prepared his station. 

“Malfoy, you arsehole, stop ignoring me.” 

“Potter, I have better things to do than listen to your groan about your shitty sleeping schedule. I told you to get laid. That’ll put you out like a light.” 

“I’m trying, well sorta.” 

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “That girl from yesterday?” 

“I couldn’t sleep because I can’t get her out of my head. She’s so fucking smart and beyond beautiful and the way she bites her lip.” Harry groaned. “I want to bite it.” 

“I don’t need to know about your kinks...but she did have nice lips. And hair too.” 

“She’s perfect.” 

“Ask her out then and stop moaning and groaning about it.” 

Harry frowned. “What if she isn’t down for that? And I don’t want to just shag her and leave, I am looking for—” 

“—If you say soulmate, I am going to tattoo your eyeball.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Consider it a gift.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to say soulmate, but Cho fucked me over man. I don’t want that to happen to me or to anyone else for that matter.” 

“You can still shag her and love her. That’s how I found Astoria. She is a good fuck, and that’s why I kept coming back, but then we actually started to get to know each other. I wouldn’t trade her for anyone else.” 

Harry nodded, having heard the story more than a handful of times. “I’ll see how tomorrow goes,” he said, getting up as a client walked in. “And if it goes well, I’ll ask her out. It is Friday after all, I don’t have to worry about waking up to come into work on Saturday.” 

“Lucky bastard. I can’t believe you didn’t schedule anyone for this Saturday. I am completely booked.” 

“Welcome to my life every Saturday that you take off. Karma’s a bitch.” 

“And so it is.” 

Harry walked back to his station after that and began setting up for his next client. He needed to get his mind off Hermione Granger, especially with a full day of work ahead, but he didn’t think that would happen anytime soon. She was a permanent presence, at least until tomorrow when he saw her again. 

Harry was a nervous wreck. He already had a tattoo consultation in which he could barely focus, and when it was over, he walked out the back and smoked two cigarettes in an attempt to calm down, but the nicotine wasn’t doing its job — he was totally unable to relax. Dubbing it a lost cause, Harry returned to the inside of the shop, and there she was waiting. She waved, and he held up a finger, signalling to her to give him a moment. 

He washed his hands and sprayed a bit of cologne on in hopes to cover up his horrible habit — one that he knew he could live without. He set up his station before calling her over. 

“Hermione, how are you?” 

“I am well, how are you?” 

“Good.” He gestured to the inkbed, and she hopped up. “Have you decided where you want the tattoo?” 

Hermione nodded. “Right here.” She reached around her side and placed her hand on her back, right below her left shoulder. 

“Okay, let me go print an outline that I will place on your skin. There are so many little details, I don’t want to freehand it again. Especially after you fell in love with my original drawing.” 

She blushed at his comment, and he walked away. Once he had the outline ready and his nerves a bit more under control, he returned to his station. 

“I am going to have to ask you to take off your t-shirt and lay on your stomach. I can get you a towel if you’re uncomfortable with such a large portion of skin exposed.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said, reaching for the hem of her shirt. “No problem at all.” Harry gulped as her bra came into view as she pulled the shirt over her head. It was just a simple sports bra, and thankfully, she quickly turned over onto her stomach. 

He washed his hands once more before putting on gloves and beginning his prep of the skin, cleaning and sterilizing the area. 

“I’m going to place the outline on now.” 

“Okay,” she replied, her face facing the opposite way. He wanted to look at her, but it was probably better this way — her eyes were distracting.

He pressed the design onto her skin. It looked nice, but he needed to be sure that she liked the placement before inking it permanently into her skin. 

“Okay, I have a full-length mirror over here and a hand mirror so you can check out the placement.” She got up off of the inkbed and took the offered hand mirror. She turned her back toward the full-length mirror and looked with the hand mirror.

“What do you think? Is the placement okay? Is it too big or too small? Anything you want changed?” 

Hermione shook her head and smiled, handing the mirror back. “I think it looks great, exactly where I was thinking.” 

Harry nodded. “Stomach down once more, and we can get started.” She hopped back up on the inkbed while Harry shed his gloves, washed his hands once more and replaced the gloves. 

“Okay, are you ready, Hermione?” 

“Yes.” 

“Let me know if you need me to stop at any time. But do not move for any reason at all okay? If you need to move or adjust your position on the bed, ask me to stop first.” 

“Okay, I will let you know if I need a break and I won’t move for any reason,” she said, repeating what he had told her.

Harry smiled and began to trace the outline. She gasped a little when the needle first touched her, but that always happened with newbies. They were never expecting the way it felt, especially not the pain. 

The day passed quickly, chatting to Hermione as he continually pressed the needle into her skin. She needed several breaks, and Draco ordered subs for them and the two clients currently in the shop. It was nice to sit with Hermione and eat, especially since it was going so well. She laughed at his jokes and always asked interesting questions. By the end of the session, she was all smiles despite the long day. 

“All done.”

He had her check the tattoo out in the mirror, he cleaned the area, put some A&D Ointment on, and wrapped it in saran wrap. He educated her in taking care of the tattoo and directed her up to the front to pay for the tattoo. 

As she was walking out, Harry made a split second decision before she walked out forever. 

“Hermione, wait!” He rushed over to her, and she was looking up at him with her eyebrows raised, looking at him with hopeful eyes. Despite that being a good sign, he reached back and messed with his hair, making it stick on end — a habit he picked up when he was nervous.

“Would you maybe want to go out tonight? Dinner and drinks?” 

Hermione smiled, Harry again blinded by how beautiful it was. 

“I’d love to.” She walked back to the counter and picked up a pen, and he handed her a scrap piece of paper when she asked. 

Handing him back the paper, she had scrawled her address on it. “Pick me up at seven?” 

He looked from the paper back to her face. “I’ll be there.” 

“See you in a few.” And with a wave, Hermione walked out. 

“Nice job, mate!” Malfoy said, grinning at him when Harry turned around. “Better go tame your hair.” 

“Shove off, arsehole.” Harry brought up his hand and ran his fingers through it. Personally, he liked when it stuck up — made him look a bit rogue. Helped him keep up the bad boy look he was going for. Plus, Hermione didn’t seem to mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was panicking as she watched Harry pull up to the complex that she lived in, the roar of his bike dying down as he cut the engine. As he threw his leg over the bike, she had to bite her lip to keep herself from moaning. Thank goodness Pansy was off with her boyfriend for the weekend — she would be giving Hermione so much shit right now. But damn if Harry didn’t look delectable. 

He was one of those guys that put absolutely no effort into their appearance but was hotter than hell. He was wearing a pair of black jeans with holes in the knees, black boots, and a black and white vertical striped tee with a to-die-for leather jacket that surely cost more than a month’s rent for her flat. 

Looking down at herself, she almost mirrored his outfit in a pair of black jeans, a white v-neck tee that she french tucked, and a similar black leather jacket. She had tousled her hair more than usual and finished off the look with matte pink lipstick. 

A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione shook her head in an attempt to compose herself. While she was daydreaming about Harry’s arse in those jeans, he had already made his way up to her flat. Smoothing down her jacket, she quickly moved to the door and opened it. 

“Harry!” She said, ushering him in and giving him one of her signature side hugs, not yet comfortable with him enough to warrant a full embrace. 

“I meant to bring flowers, but, well...they wouldn’t have survived the trip over here. I’d be handing you stems.” 

Hermione laughed and walked over to the hook that held her satchel. Slinging it over her head, he commented, “You look amazing by the way.” 

She walked close enough they were almost touching chests and looked him in the eyes. “You look pretty good too if I do say so myself.” She winked and pulled him out the door, locking it behind her. 

Dinner passed smoothly for the couple, and now, they were riding around on his bike, enjoying the cool night. Harry loved the way that she felt pressed up against him, her arms wrapped around his middle. 

He pulled off in the uptown area called South End. He helped her off the bike after he clambered off of it. “I figured we could walk around here, maybe get a drink or some ice cream. What do you say?” 

Hermione grinned. “Sounds perfect.” 

They opted for ice cream since Harry was driving and shouldn’t drink too much. They tasted each other’s deciding that Harry’s was better — strawberry always trumped everything. 

When they finished, they walked hand in hand around the area talking about life experiences, spent some time people watching — just getting to know each other on a deeper level. There was a lot in common, and Harry couldn’t get enough of her. Hermione felt the same.

So much so that when they came to a stop at his motorcycle, Hermione leaned against it and pulled Harry close. Harry made his move and pressed Hermione up against his bike, pressing his lips against hers. Several wolf-whistles erupted behind them as Harry moved his lips against hers, getting another taste of their ice cream. 

When Harry pulled his lips away, he smiled at her, his hands still firmly gripping her hips. Hermione moved her head and pushed away the collar of his shirt.

“Take me home,” she whispered, before pressing a kiss against the snitch on his neck. 

Harry had a difficult time driving Hermione back to her place, as she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Her hands roamed across the hard plains of his abs, her hands underneath his shirt. 

Pulling in and cutting the engine to the bike, Hermione wasted no time in pulling Harry up to her flat, giving him little kisses along the way, Harry playing with the exposed skin at her hip. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Hermione asked, throwing her satchel to the floor and shutting the door behind them. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You.” Hermione for the first time that night blushed and looked down. Harry walked over and lifted her chin, so she was looking him in the eyes. “What happened to the vixen ready to rip my clothes off uptown?” 

Hermione bit her lip. “She’s hiding.” 

“Well, we should drag her out then.” And with that, he pressed a kiss to her lips, which Hermione deepened as she wrapped her hands around his neck. 

Impatient, Hermione walked backwards toward the couch and pulled him on top of her, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He returned the favour and pulled hers off as well and threw it on the ground to join his own. 

Harry finally left her mouth and began to press kisses down her neck and onto her barely exposed chest. His hands all the while roaming her body, coming to rest at the hem of her shirt. When he stopped, she opened her eyes to see his green eyes staring down at her. 

“Is something wrong? Oh God, was I too forward? We don’t have to do this.” 

She scrambled to get up, and Harry lightly pushed her back down, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I want to, promise.” She looked around in confusion. “I would just rather ravish you on a bed rather than the sofa.” 

Hermione nodded and instead of unwrapping her legs from his hips, she tightened them and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, why don’t you take me there then?” 

Harry easily picked her up, and she directed him toward her bedroom, thankful again that Pansy had decided to visit her boyfriend for the weekend. Harry gently laid her down on the bed after closing the door and sought after her mouth once more, running his tongue along the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth, and his tongue moved in, tangling with hers. 

Out of breath, he pulled away and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head. He then reached for her boots, throwing them into a corner. When he moved to unbuckle her jeans, she stopped him. 

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” 

Harry smirked. “Are you going to do something about it?” 

Hermione got up on her knees, so her head was level with his neck. She reached down and pulled his shirt over his head. She ran her fingers over his muscled body, running her fingertips across the waistband of his jeans while suckling at the tattoo on his neck. 

Harry grew impatient wanting to see her fully, especially as she continued to tease him with her hands...her fingers...her lips. He reached around and unhooked the black, lace bra, exposing her breasts to him for the first time. They were a perfect handful Harry discovered as he cupped them in his hands, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. She moaned and pushed them into his hands as he rolled her nipples in between his index finger and thumb. 

He abandoned the soft flesh of her breasts and skated his hands down her body before unbuttoning her jeans. He pushed her back on the bed softly as not to disturb the saran wrap still wrapped across her back. She lifted her bum as he pulled the skinny jeans down her legs, eventually throwing them to the corner to join her boots. 

He pushed her further up the bed and joined her, but not before shucking his own jeans and his briefs, leaving him entirely in the nude. Hermione swallowed and moaned a little as he was large and a bit on the girthy side. At that moment, she had never seen a cock so perfect, standing straight up, leaking pre-come — all for her. 

On the bed, he moved in between her legs before pulling her right foot to rest on his shoulder. He kissed his way down her leg, then switched, mimicking the same thing on her left leg. Eventually, he made his way to her core, his hot breath heavy over her soaked, lace knickers. He placed a kiss at her centre through her knickers before ripping them at the seam, removing the offending garment from her person. 

When his tongue found her core, all protest died on her lips, a moan taking their place. She moved her hands down to his raven locks, grabbing a handful of hair, bringing him closer. 

“Fuck, Harry.” 

He moved up to suck on her clit as two fingers delved into her wetness, pumping in and out. It has been so long since she came from someone else’s fingers and it wasn’t long until she crested over, moaning his name as she orgasmed. 

Harry kissed his way up her body before finding her lips once more, his fingers still plucking the last bits of her orgasm out of her, gently pulling on her clit. 

“Mind if I return the favour?” She mumbled, running her fingers down his back.

“Let me take care of you tonight. If you still want to in the morning, I won’t say no.” 

Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

“I want you,” she whispered, reaching in between them and grasping his erection. He felt so good in between her fingers, and slowly she guided him to her entrance, no lubrication needed due to her recent orgasm. 

He slowly pushed in, groaning as he did so. Hermione moved her hands to his arse, urging him to push in further, to bottom out inside her. He stayed still for a moment once he slipped all the way in. Hermione spread her legs a bit wider, placing the bottoms of her feet on the bed. 

“Fuck me, Harry.” When he didn’t move, she begged, “Please, Harry. Please, fuck me.” 

Harry found her lips and pulled his cock almost all of the way out of her before slamming back in. She moaned as he set a punishing pace, meeting him thrust for thrust. 

“Fuck, so tight. You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. And each time you move, you’ll think of me in between your legs.” 

Hermione moaned at the words and wrapped her legs around his waist, spurring more dirty talk from him. 

“Such a tight little pussy, all for me. Say it.” 

“All for you,” Hermione breathed out. 

“Fuck. Yes.” He slammed into her again and again, chasing his orgasm. 

“I’m so close,” Hermione moaned, sneaking her hand in between them. 

“No, all mine,” he growled out, pushing her hand away. He wanted to be the only one to give her an orgasm. He brought down his thumb and coaxed her into her second orgasm of the night, her cunt tightening around his cock. 

“Come for me, Harry,” Hermione moaned, grabbing onto his arse again, pulling him further into her. “Come for me.” 

Several thrusts later, Harry pulled out at the last second, coming on her stomach. “Fuck.” He collapsed to the side of her, stroking his softening cock. 

“Do you have a towel?” He asked. “I’ll clean you up.” 

“Bathroom,” Hermione yawned, pointing to the door on the left side of her bed. 

Harry got up and grabbed a towel from the floor, wiping his cock off before returning to the bed to clean Hermione up. 

He threw the towel on the ground before laying next to her, pulling her close, spooning. She pushed her butt into his cock, and it twitched. 

“Love, if you don’t want me to fuck you again right now…” 

He trailed off, and Hermione hummed contentedly, pulling the sheet from the bottom of the bed up and over them. She turned in his arms and pressed several kisses to his jaw before drifting off to sleep. 

“Goodnight,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, a smile on his face. 

  
  


Hermione woke up the next morning, an erection pressing into her belly. Opening her eyes, Harry was still fast asleep and decided she needed to fix that immediately. 

She threw her leg over his hip and moved closer, his erection close to rubbing over her slit. She ran her fingers over his chest, hoping to wake him up. Perhaps she could give him a blowjob — that’d wake him right up. 

“Morning.” The sound went straight to Hermione’s core, his voice full of sleep and sexy as hell. 

“Morning handsome,” Hermione purred, pressing her lips to his, not caring about the morning breath she probably had. 

“I think I’ll return that favour now.” Hermione unhooked her leg from around his hip and got up on her knees. He moved closer to the centre of the bed, sprawled out on his back, his legs spread. 

He was slowly moving his hands over his erection, watching her. “You are so fucking sexy.” 

Hermione blushed and moved her hands up his legs before pushing his hands away and grasping his cock. She gave it a couple experimental pumps before lowering her head, sucking the tip into her mouth. Grabbing the base with her hands, she began to bob up and down, twisting her hands on the part of his cock she couldn’t reach. He mimicked her from the night before and laced his hands through her hair. He was just resting them there, not pushing her down onto his cock. For that she was thankful, she wasn’t sure how much of his cock she could actually put down her throat. But it was something that she wouldn’t mind getting practice with. 

After he came into her mouth, she crawled back up to him, and he didn’t stop her from pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Should I apologize for the dirty talk? I hope it wasn’t too much.” 

“Oh gods, no,” Hermione murmured, running her fingers across his chest. “It was so fucking hot. I don’t know if I have come so hard in my life. And speaking of that, want to join me in the shower?” 

Harry grinned and moved to get up with her. As she started the shower, Harry removed the saran wrap from her back from the previous day. 

“Make sure it’s not scalding hot. Your tattoo won’t thank you.” 

Hermione nodded. “It’s just warm enough.” She slipped inside, Harry following her. She took the soap in her hands and washed him first, admiring the tattoos that weren’t always out in the open. 

“Gods, you’re hot.” 

Harry turned and pulled her to him. “You’re much hotter. These curves—” He ran his fingers over her hips. “These breasts—” He cupped her breasts. “This ass—” He grabbed her ass, lifting her up against the shower wall. 

Hermione was a whimpering mess as Harry slipped into her once more and fucked her up against the wall, his mouth all over her, leaving love bites in his wake. Once they both orgasmed and actually showered, cleaning themselves of the sex they participated in the last twelve hours, they dried themselves off. 

Harry helped Hermione with the aftercare of her tattoo, her claiming that she couldn’t reach the tattoo without his help. He was happy to help knowing she just wanted his touch. It was a win-win because Harry couldn’t keep his hands off. He put more ointment on and advised her to wear a tank top to keep the tattoo from becoming irritated by a tee. 

They both got dressed — Harry in his clothes from the day before and Hermione in joggers and a tank top. Before he walked out the door, he turned to her and placed one hand on the side of her face, the other laced through her hair, tilting her chin up to meet him. 

He pressed a soft kiss against her lips before pulling back to gaze into her eyes he loved so much. 

“I hope I am not being too forward, but you’ve inked me forever,” he whispered, his lips still close enough to brush hers.

Hermione looked at him, curiously. “You know you’re the one that tattooed me, right?” 

Harry grinned. “I meant across my heart. That shits permanent.” 

“So it is.” Hermione pressed another kiss against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go. She was inked forever too and not just by tattoos. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short little tale. Big thanks to The Muse of Apollo for looking it over for me and talking me out of posting it early a million times.


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